The Suit
by PteraWaters
Summary: Spike comes home wearing something different... Smutty Angel/Spike one-shot.


_A/N: So, I wrote this for my Angel/Spike season 5 series, but it didn't really fit anywhere. Technically, it takes place after Tempestuous Time Bomb, but it stands alone for the most part. Just me having a little fun..._

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_I hadn't seen Spike since late the last night, when we'd fallen asleep together, though I had spoken to him on the phone, once. It was so odd for us – usually he was at my side all the time, but he was needed for something else today, according to Gunn. So, when I saw a platinum blond heading across the lobby from the elevators to my office, I breathed a sigh of relief. And then I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"Hey, Peaches," Spike greeted me, and I took in the sight of him as he approached. He was wearing a dark gray pinstriped suit over a light purple shirt and a blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly. Though the suit coat was unbuttoned, his shirt was untucked, and the tie loosened around his neck, I could tell everything was custom tailored for him.

"What are you wearing?" I asked as he closed the door of my office and came towards me, taking my hand in his. "And is that eyeliner?"

"What?" he asked defensively as he drew me toward the elevator and upstairs. "It's a look."

"What look were you going for, hon?" I said as we stepped from the elevator, holding him away from me to get another look at him. I had to admit, it wasn't unappealing.

"I was undercover, yeah? Helping out Gunn with a case."

"How did you help?" I asked, suspiciously. Spike's main skills are fighting and fucking. And it didn't look like he'd been fighting. But he didn't smell like sex either, or not anymore than he usually does.

"We were negotiating with this warlock. Real head honcho," he said, moving in to the kitchen for some dinner. Glancing back to smile at me as he reached for a mug, Spike said, "Turns out I'm just his type."

"I'm asking you again, precious," I growled through clenched teeth as I backed him against the counter with my hips, taking the mug from his hands and putting it back, "what did you do?"

He laughed and slid his arms over my shoulders, lacing his fingers together behind my neck. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Angel. I was just there to look pretty."

"Uh-uh," I said skeptically. "So you just sat there, looking like this, for someone else."

"Well, it worked," he told me. "Bloke was mighty distracted. Gunn mopped the floor with him." Spike pulled me closer so he could kiss me. At least he didn't taste like anyone else. As our lips parted, Spike looked down at his clothes and asked, "Do you like it?"

"I...it's so different." I replied, taking another look at him. "I don't dislike it."

Spike laughed again, "Well don't expect me to show up to work every day in a bloody suit like all the rest of your corporate tools. Tomorrow it's back to jeans and my leather coat."

"Whose idea was this? And why did you agree?"

"Geez, Ange. T'were just a bit of fun. Gunn and I were researching this guy, and we came across a picture of his old flame. Gunn said he looked a lot like me, and I said maybe we could use that to our advantage."

"So it was your idea?"

"That's right, luv. Not the first time I've used my looks for the greater good, or I s'pose it was mostly for the greater evil, back in the day. Used to work on you, if I recall."

"Never happened," I insisted with a slight smile, letting my hands find their way up through the open bottom of his shirt to rest on his hips, squeezing in my fingertips, just shy of causing him pain. "What did this warlock want?"

"Besides me?" Spike asked with a chuckle. "I think Gunn managed to talk him out of using human sacrifices? Not quite sure what exactly was goin' on, business-wise. But that bloke couldn't take his eyes off me."

I growled again in jealousy, tightening my hold on his hips and pressing my belly harder against his.

"Gunn and I want to try it next week on this chick," he prodded, reaching to kiss me quickly. "But I'm thinking the purple shirt will have to go. Isn't the manliest of colors, is it?"

"No," I agreed, loosening my hold on him so I could undo his tie the rest of the way. I slipped it from around his neck before unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the bottom and working my way up. As I undid the last button at his collar and brushed aside the two halves of his shirt, I gasped in pleasure at the sight of his naked chest. He's so lean, all muscles underneath the skin and his pale flesh was still scarred from the week before. I traced the lines I'd placed on his skin with a fingertip, smiling when he shivered under my touch.

"See," he said softly. "I'm still yours, Angel. You've nothing to worry over."

"Looks like I'll have to draw them again before too long," I suggested, scratching along one of the curving lines with the edge of my short, blunt fingernail.

"Oh, luv," he whispered and I kissed the side of his neck. I'm beginning to resent it when he calls me that, because I know he doesn't really mean it. I know he likes belonging to me, he likes what I do to him, and he's just as addicted to my blood as I am to his, but he doesn't love me. Not like I love him. He let me mark him, cutting shallow scratches all over the skin of his chest and belly, but only because he gets off on the pain. Spike said he was mine, always, but I knew as my marks faded from his skin, he'd forget he'd made that promise.

Today was just another example of how casually he treated the sentiment. Flirting with someone else to get the advantage in a business deal? Then again, maybe one of the reasons he'd done it was to make me jealous. Spike needs me to be angry with him sometimes. And he just loves getting under my skin with little games like this. Is that why he'd done it?

"Spike," I warned him, biting his throat down and to the side of his Adam's apple with blunt teeth, and making him cry out. "Don't you ever forget who you belong to."

"It's not like you'd..." he gasped when I pulled his belt away and through all the loops after unbuckling it, "...ever _let_ me forget, you Neanderthal." Next, I unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall from his narrow hips.

"Who goes commando in a suit?" I asked him, running my thumbs down those delicious lines between his abs and his hipbones as he kicked away his pants.

"I do, you bloody git," he said, undoing my pants and pushing them down before he unbuttoned my shirt. I caught his mouth in a kiss as he rolled my shoulders back, pushing the shirt away. "Boxers and a wifebeater?" he asked, catching the hem of my top in his fingers. "Really makin me work to get you naked, aren't ya, pet?"

"Yeah, it's all to spite you," I chuckled sarcastically as he pulled away the tank top and dropped it to the floor before running his hands over my chest. "And has nothing to do with how people normally dress." My boxers hit the floor next, and Spike's hand found my cock.

"We're not exactly people," he whispered as he stroked me once or twice, making me completely hard for him.

He pulled back to divest himself of the suit coat and shirt, but I stopped him, growling, "Leave them on."

"Yeah?" he asked with a smile just before I kissed him again, grabbing the back of his neck in one hand and thrusting my cock against his, pinning him to the counter. Shivering pleasure cut through me as my sensitive flesh brushed against his and Spike's tongue found mine, pushing back at me as we kissed.

"Yeah," I answered, wrapping my free arm around him, under his clothes and holding him close as our hips rocked against one another. "Keep them on, precious."

"Okay," he whispered, groaning as I squeezed the back of his neck, forcing his knees to weaken so he almost collapsed in my arms. "But if you ruin them, you're buying me new ones."

I didn't answer him. Instead, I kissed him again, hard, before letting go of his neck and reaching down between us. Once there, I wrapped my hand around his hard prick and mine, gripping and stroking up and down, shuddering at the pleasure of it.

"Oh," Spike groaned, thrusting up into my hand, against my cock. "I love..." my dead heart clenched in anticipation of his words, and I almost lost my rhythm. Maybe he actually did feel the same way about me as I did about him. "...those big caveman hands of yours, Angel."

Looking into his eyes, ringed as they were in a thin line of dark brown make-up that made the blue of his eyes jump out, I found him looking back at me. Those eyes held more than the usual lustful pleasure that they normally did during sex. Affection. That was the look. Possibly love?

I tried to analyze his earlier words, thinking maybe he'd just chickened out of saying it, but it was impossible while Spike's hands roamed my arms, shoulders, chest, back, whatever skin he could touch while I held him close and stroked us both to near completion.

When Spike was trembling and getting close in my hand, he grabbed my hair in one hand, jerking my head to the side and sinking his fangs into my neck with a stifled scream. Growling in response to the pain, I gripped us harder together and shifted so I could bite him where his neck met his shoulder. Relief and release flooded my body as soon as Spike's blood hit my stomach as both my cock and Spike's pumped in my hand, shuddering as we rode out the last few pangs of orgasm.

As I released my grip on our privates, I noticed a tiny rivulet of blood making its way from where I'd bitten Spike to the collar of his shirt. Quickly, I tugged his shirt back and away, catching the drop of blood with my tongue, reveling in the taste of both his blood and his skin.

"Christ, pet," Spike moaned. "I'm beginning to think I should make you jealous more often."

"Don't you dare," I warned him, pushing his clothes the rest of the way from his body and leading him by the hips as I stepped backward. His come and mine was still sandwiched between our bellies and chests, and the sensation was growing unpleasant as I led him to the bedroom.

"Where're we goin', luv?"

"We're taking a shower," I answered, pulling him through the bedroom to the bathroom, still holding him close. "And don't think I've forgiven you just yet," I said as I released him, turning to open the taps and warm up the water.

As Spike wiped off his chest with one hand and rinsed it in the sink, he asked, "Angel? Why don't you just cover this mirror?"

"It's a matter of principle, hon," I said. "If Wolfram and Hart won't get rid of it, I'm not compromising by covering it up."

"You know what I've never understood?" he asked, waving a towel so it appeared to be floating in mid air. "Why does this show up in the reflection, but clothes don't? See, look," he said, throwing it over his shoulders like a cape and turning to face me, looking at the mirror over his shoulder as the towel settled against him and disappeared.

"Probably the same magic that keeps us walking and talking and fucking without a heartbeat," I said, taking the towel from him and tossing it onto the counter.

"Well that's a convenient explanation," he scoffed as I pushed him into the shower stall. "Wanna know what I think?"

"Not really," I replied, joining him under the water and closing the door behind me.

"I think some overly modest higher power didn't want a bunch of vampires running around naked just so they could sneak up on people."

"Spike," I pointed out, sliding a hand over his hair under the stream of water, "the point of looking like humans is so we can move through them unnoticed while we hunt. Being naked doesn't generally help with blending in, does it?"

Spike laughed, "Yeah. I s'pose you're right, Peaches."

"I'm always right," I growled at him playfully, pushing him up against the shower wall.

"No," he chuckled, letting one leg rise up and brush against my hip, earning him a gasp of excitement from my throat. "But you really like to think so, don't you, pet?"

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_Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!  
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